Marion groaned. “If I owned half the shit I’m supposed to own, I wouldn’t need to worry about money, ever again.”

  Nicholas sighed in exasperation. “Get Hood down here.” He told Quarry. “We’re about to politely ask him what the fuck is going on. Then, we’ll hang him.”

  Quarry shot Marion a quick look, as if gauging her reaction to the pending execution.

  “You know the last thing Robin said to me, as I was being dragged off to jail?” She shrugged. “‘Good luck, Marion. …But I think we should see other people.’” She leaned against Nicholas’ side and smirked. “I’m just taking his advice.”

  Quarry’s mouth curved slightly.

  “Now that I’m pretty damn sure he didn’t even put that money in my prison commissary account, I’m even less disposed to care whether or not he’s breathing. Plus, Robin stole from my dying father. I’ve vowed to destroy his dreams and I think hanging qualifies.” Accomplishing so much justified vengeance in one fell swoop was glorious. “Screw that bastard sideways.” She looked at Nicholas and smiled sweetly. “Right, donut hole?”

  “I’d prefer you not screw that bastard, in any direction, actually.” Nicholas said, flipping through the papers Quarry had handed him.

  The very calm comment made her laugh. His sense of humor was so dry it often took a moment to even realize he was joking. She loved that! It kept her on her toes.

  Nicholas’ eyes gleamed, liking the sound of her amusement echoing in the vast foyer.

  Quarry’s gaze cut back and forth between them and he seemed to nod to himself, as if he’d been right about something. “Alright. I’ll go get Hood and…”

  The deadly sound of a repeating crossbow cut him off. A rapid succession of steel-tipped arrows impacted the wall behind them, hitting with enough force to propel the projectiles straight into the stone.

  Holy crap!

  Someone had just shot at them from the third floor landing.

  “Down!” Nicholas shoved Marion to the foyer floor, as the red dot of a laser scope swept past them, looking for targets.

  Footsteps and shouting sounded from up above.

  “Stop!” Tilda’s voice cried. “I just healed you! You’ll reinjure yourself!”

  More arrows were fired, whooshing through the air at incredible speed. This time they hit the railing, blowing out a huge chunk of wood. Nicholas’ body shielded Marion from the splintered debris raining down.

  Thanks to doing time with the Black Knight, she quickly identified the crossbow as an Oak Major 1000. The former soldier had loved chatting about weapons, so she even knew about the obscure ones. It didn’t take a skilled archer to kill a ton of people with a crossbow like that, but they were banned in most lands. It automatically readied the projectiles and rapidly fired them, one after another. All you had to do was pull the huge trigger.

  The Oak Major 1000 was illegal for good reason. It was the closest Nottingham came to a machine gun. That didn’t really answer the most pressing question, though.

  “Who’s shooting at us?”

  Quarry snorted. He’d taken cover by the newel post. “Given how popular you two are, it could be anyone in Nottingham.”

  That was fair.

  “It’s Hood.” Nicholas’ said grimly.

  “No, Robin wouldn’t…” Marion stopped talking, because the arrows stopped firing. The shooter was trying to figure out how to reload. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Nicholas seemed to concur. He stood up, grabbed Marion, and carted her out the front door. “Wait here.” He ordered and dropped her onto the steps. Then, he headed back inside.

  Was he insane?

  “No! We’re not doing that, again.” Marion went after him, back into the foyer. “Stop trying to protect me, all the time.”

  “I swore a vow to protect you, when I claimed the betrothal rights.” The words were inflexible as rock. “If you had an issue with it, you shouldn’t have taken your top off.”

  Quarry glanced over at them, his eyebrows soaring.

  Marion was not about to argue about the silly betrothal rights, during an assassination attempt. “Come out with me, until we figure out what’s happening, Nick!”

  “I know what’s happening. It’s Hood.” Nicholas prepared to head up the stairs.

  Marion seized hold of his sleeve, before he could go marching off to fight a maniac with automatic arrows. “I don’t want you to die again! How many times do I have to say it?”

  “I’m not about to let Hood escape!”

  “It can’t be him!”

  “Don’t defend that bastard!”

  “I’m not. But Robin wouldn’t use an Oak Major. They’re too heavy. He likes longbows, because they’re more portable for running through the foliage…”

  “I’ll never surrender!” Robin screamed from the top of the stairs.

  “Oh.” Marion frowned. “Huh. Okay, never mind, I guess.”

  The three of them looked upward, just in time to see her moronic ex jump from the third floor landing onto a rope that dangled from the skylight.

  A rope? Where had that come from?

  Tilda, the witch-practitioner, chased after him. “He escaped!” She called to Marion, which was honestly kind of obvious. “He’s just so brilliant.” She stood by the railing, her hands clasped over her chest, as she watched her favorite patient make a scramble for freedom. “And strong.” Clearly, the woman was awed by his heroics.

  Marion wasn’t nearly so impressed with the spectacle Sherwood’s biggest shithead was creating. If he was clinging to a rope, then he couldn’t shoot the Oak Major 1000, which meant he couldn’t escape. The gargoyles would just catch him, again. Did he even have the crossbow? She didn’t see the immense thing anywhere on him.

  Was she missing something or was this a terrible plan?

  “Marion, I forgive you for everything!” Robin shouted down at her, climbing around like a kid on a jungle-gym. “We’ll be together soon!”

  Unbelievable! “What do you mean you forgive me? You were in on a plot to kill me this afternoon!” Marion wasn’t over getting attacked by puppets. She would never be over getting attacked by puppets.

  “I didn’t try to kill you!” Robin sounded genuinely outraged by the accusation. “I would never do that! Our love is fated in the stars! The sheriff is trying to turn you against me, because he knows you’ll always come back to me in the end!”

  Nicholas was plotting ways to kill him. She could see it on his face. Gray eyes flicked up to the glass of the skylight, like he was wondering if he could somehow break it from this distance and stab Robin with falling glass.

  “You’ll end up shredded to pieces, too, coo-berry. You’d be right under it when it collapsed.” Marion ran a consoling hand up and down his arm. It was always tough on Nicholas when he couldn’t murder Robin.

  “Get away from my girl, rock-monster!” Robin shouted, seeing Marion’s touch.

  Nicholas’ expression went even darker. “She is my girl.” The claim was an absolute roar.

  Marion appreciated his sexy possessiveness, but that particular phrasing was a wartime colloquialism. A soldier’s girl was almost mythical in Nottingham. In all the most-popular ballads, brave men went into battle to protect their helpless beloved girls back home. Marion wasn’t helpless! She’d once been some drippy damsel, waiting for rescue, but not ever again.

  “Did I agree you could call me ‘your girl’?” She asked pointedly.

  “Did I agree you could call me ‘coo-berry?’” Nicholas’ scowl stayed fixed on Robin.

  That was totally different! “Marion belongs to Marion.” She informed all interested parties. “Nick also belongs to Marion. Nobody gives a shit what happens to Robin or who he belongs to.” She flicked an indifferent hand towards her former flame. “That is how this actually goes.”

  Nicholas glanced her way and didn’t argue.

  Robin did. “You’ve been my girl for years! You can’t just change that! Why would you even want to? You’re just trying to prove a point with this fake engagement…”

  “It’s not fake! I’ve dumped you, Robin.”

  Robin didn’t want to hear that, so he didn’t. “…but don’t worry your little head about the trials of men! I’ll soon defeat the sheriff, save you from this hellish castle, and make you my forest bride! We’ll rule over my woodland utopia, arm-in-arm!”

  Marion threw her hands up in exasperation.

  Nicholas’s jaw clenched. “I’m going to go upstairs, get him off that damn thing, and then hang him.” He turned to Quarry. “Take Marion outside, again. Then, go up on the roof and cut the rope from that end. If Hood won’t swing one way, he’ll swing another.”

  Quarry nodded and went dashing towards the door, seizing Marion by the waist as he past. She gave a yelp of protest, as he carted her out to the front step and casually put her back on her feet. He gave a salute and went loping off. Since she couldn’t yell at him, she settled for yelling at the mastermind of her newest abduction.

  “Damn it, Nick!” See, this was exactly what she meant! And why was Nicholas always so intent on sheltering her, when the other him had been the one to tell her she could only count on herself? “I just told you…”

  He cut her off. “Stay there, until I’m sure you won’t be shot. Please.”

  Marion sighed loudly. Since he’d said “please,” she compromised on standing in the doorway. “I hope he falls on your kidnapping head.” She muttered.

  Despite the situation, Nicholas’ mouth curved. He started up the stairs.

  “What’s all the noise?” Trevelyan came wandering into the foyer at a leisurely stroll. “When I torture people, it’s never so shrill.”

  Marion’s eyes widened. “Where’s L.J.?” She didn’t want the boy inadvertently harmed by the attack.

  “How should I know?” Trevelyan asked, like he hadn’t just been with the kid twenty seconds before. Other people were never very important to him. Presumably, L.J. was still drawing by the fire and Trevelyan didn’t even notice he existed. His gaze went up to the ceiling. “And who’s that?”

  Robin continued to flail around on the rope. With any luck, he’d break his neck. “My dumbass ex.”

  “You dated a murderous housekeeper?”

  She glanced at him in confusion. “What…?”

  “Get back!” Nicholas roared.

  He came down the stairs so fast he was a blur. Marion didn’t have time to react, before he was in front of her. An arrow bounced off the rocky skin of his right arm and he didn’t even notice.

  “Nick, my God…!”

  More arrows flew from the third floor landing, peppering the walls. Who in the hell was firing? It couldn’t be Robin. He was still on the rope.

  “Marion, get back!” Nicholas headed across the foyer, ignoring the deadly projectiles. All he saw was her. Big arms grabbed her up, scanning for injuries and pushing her behind the relative safety of the doorframe. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine! You were the one who got shot!”

  He didn’t bother to check for a wound. “The arrow bounced off the stone.”

  “Are you sure?” She tried to examine his arm, but an arrow hit the door exactly where her head had been twenty seconds before. That was all he seemed capable of focusing on. Nicholas dragged her farther back from the open doorway.

  “I’m fine.” She assured him again, her heart pounding.

  Trevelyan stood alone in the foyer, casually keeping score. “Your ex hates you, I think.” He reported to Marion. “She’s got a crossbow.”

  “Stop!” Robin bellowed to the murderous housekeeper who’d sighted on Marion. “Don’t shoot her! Marion is going to be my wife!”

  “She’s just like her whore of a mother!” Guyla Gisborn shrieked back. Dressed in her gray uniform, her graying hair askew, her usually gray face was lit with triumph. She’d braced the gigantic crossbow against the third floor railing and was letting loose. “You can do better, Robin!”

  Tilda nodded like that was a great point. “You really, really can.” She loyally fan-girled.

  Guyla shot at Marion, again. Then, she fired at Tilda, too. “Get your eyes off of him, tramp!”

  Tilda cried out in terror and fled. You’d think the fairy would’ve tried some magic against Guyla, but nope. Like everyone else in Nottingham, she was useless. And in love with Robin. Even the damn housekeeper was willing to commit homicide for that idiot. It was nauseating.

  “I cannot wait to get out of this horrible place.” Marion told Nicholas sincerely, double-checking to make sure the arrow that hit his arm hadn’t injured him. Luckily, the lovely stone sections of his skin had kept him safe.

  Nicholas kissed her hair. “Wait here.” He stepped back and scanned the outside of the castle. Two seconds later, he was scaling the stone edifice.

  Marion’s eyebrows soared. “Where are you going?”

  “Up.”

  Marion frowned in frustration and knew she couldn’t possibly follow him. Being pudgy and un-athletic was definitely a drawback in combat situations. At least the view was nice, though. When Robin climbed around, it was juvenile and stupid. When Nicholas did it, it was hot as hell. The muscles in his arms were massive.

  Trevelyan continued to watch the chaos inside. Dragons loved chaos.

  Speaking of which… Marion backtracked to peer through the door. “You know, you could turn into a dragon and incinerate her.” She reminded him.

  He lazily shrugged, not taking the situation seriously. “What’ll you pay me, if I do?”

  Marion wished she was close enough to hit him. “I’m not paying you for help, when someone is legit trying to kill me, Trev!”

  “When someone’s trying to kill you, you should pay me more.”

  “God, you are the worst kinda-sorta friend I have ever had!”

  Trevelyan looked offended. “I saved your life in prison.”

  “That was the other-you!”

  Trevelyan frowned, not appreciating the former-him getting any credit. He was competitive about everything, even against a dead version of himself.

  Robin made it to the ceiling, while Guyla laid down cover-fire. The glass access panel to the skylight was suddenly open to aid Robin’s escape. No way could Guyla have done that. It must have been the Wraith’s contribution to the plan.

  Robin heaved himself through the opening. “Believe in our destiny!” He called to Marion and vanished from sight.

  Quarry wasn’t going to get up there in time to stop his escape.

  Fuck.

  “Did I miss the part where you explained who that is?” Trevelyan wanted to know.

  “I told you, he’s my ex.”

  “You dated him, too?”

  “Run, my love!” Guyla screamed after Robin, frantically shooting down into the foyer. Arrows went everywhere.

  Trevelyan made a face, as one nearly hit his leg. “I can’t believe you were ever involved with that terrible assassin, Marion dear. Not to mention that cowardly blond gymnast. And the dull gargoyle, as well.” He tsked at her. “You have abysmal taste in lovers.”

  Marion ignored him and stepped back to check on Nicholas. He’d made it to the third floor. Slamming his impervious stony fist through a pane of glass, he unlocked a window and made his way inside. He’d reached the top level, without using the stairs, and now he was closing in on his target.

  Guyla screeched in panic, when she spotted him coming. She was clearly terrified of Nicholas. “Get back! Get back or I’ll shoot your slut!” She kept firing as she retreated, but the shots went increasingly wild, because the crossbow weighed nearly as much as she did.

  Another arrow imbedded itself in the doorframe, three inches from Marion’s chest. Thankfully, Nicholas was too far away to see how close it had come.

  Trevelyan wasn’t. He arched a brow and finally bestirred himself. “Oh, fine.” He lifted a palm and gave his wrist a quick twist. The Oak Major 1000 jerked from Guyla’s grasp and somehow ended up in the dragon’s elegant palm. “Level five powers.” He told Marion smugly, waggling the bulky crossbow at her. “Who’s the best Trevelyan, now?”

  “Shut up and give me that thing.” She marched over to snatch it out of his hand.

  She was grudgingly impressed that Guyla had been able to heft it, at all. It was massive. The trigger on it was gigantic and the bow itself was heavy as hell. That was another reason they were so obscure. The Oak Major 1000 was simply too big for soldiers to carry.

  Nicholas kept heading for Guyla. “You’re under arrest.” His quiet voice echoed throughout the foyer. “Also, you’re fired.”

  She gave an eerie wail of fury and loss, backing towards the railing. “You can’t fire me! I serve the true king. The real king!” She hoisted herself up onto the banister. “He’s going to reclaim everything that was stolen by Richard!”

  “Jonathan is dead.” Nicholas told her, slowing his approach. “Come down from there and we can talk.”

  “And then what? You’ll send me to prison, like Friar Tuck? Lock me in the dungeon, like the Merry Men? Hang me, like all the rest of the people you’ve arrested?! It doesn’t matter that you and Marion weren’t born Bad. You’re still the wickedest villains in the kingdom and everyone knows it!”

  Trevelyan scoffed, like he should have won that title.

  Marion ignored him, struggling to aim the Oak Major 1000 at Guyla, just in case the housekeeper had some new trick up her sleeve. She didn’t love the idea of shooting the woman in the back, but she also didn’t hate it. She’d never liked that bitch, in any timeline.

  “Guyla,” Nicholas held out his left hand to her, as if he thought the sight of his gargoyle-y right palm might freak her out even more, “get away from the…”

  Guyla jumped.

  Marion cringed and turned away, not wanting to watch the housekeeper plummet to the floor. Whatever lunacy had driven Guyla to try and kill them, she took it to her grave. She impacted the marble with a sickening thud and lay ominously still.

  Trevelyan made a considering type of sound. “Well, that was interesting.”

 

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